Epistles
by Dorku No Renkinjutsushi
Summary: A month's worth of letters between Narcissa Black and Andromeda Tonks. written for a request on LJ


**Title:** Epistles  
**Author:** **creepycrawly**  
**Request:** Made by **candywrapper** for any fandom, a gen!fic about siblings. See full request here.  
**Fandom/Pairing:** Harry Potter. Narcissa Black and Andromeda Tonks nee Black.  
**Warnings:** Some language. References to slash and femslash. General torture of the calm, cool, EEEEBIL!!! Narcissa we know from the books.  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Summary:** A month's worth of letters between still-loving sisters Narcissa and Andromeda.

* * *

16 July 1976

My Dearest Sister;

Andromeda, I was so stunned to hear that you are expecting! But so pleased, nonetheless. You always said you wanted to be a mother, and now you are getting your chance. I know this letter probably surprises you, but I couldn't not write you, not after hearing Lily Evans talking to Alice Harding in Diagon Alley while shopping for school supplies the other day.

I don't suppose you remember Alice and Lily; they are in my year, so, a bit younger than you. Nevertheless, I owe them thanks, as it was due to them that I learned that you were pregnant.

I miss you, Andy. Life here just isn't the same without you around. The manor is quiet and still, and it's not supposed to be that way. It's supposed to be loud, and rambunctious. There's supposed to be you in the Potions room, me in the library, Bella in the gardens, and Sirius and Regulus in the hallways, chasing one another as always.

Well, I suppose you haven't heard the gossip from home recently. Nothing much is happening here—Bella and her husband still haven't 'succeeded' (thank Merlin for small mercies—two Lestranges is two too many, and I'd hate to see what they'd do with a child). Mother is entering into negotiations with Capricia and Cadfael Malfoy for my marriage to their son, Lucius. She also spoke to the Potters—Alvina and Fabian Potter—but Aunt Medea convinced her that it was 'an unacceptable match'. Pity. I could at least stand to be around James Potter, and it would mean I would get to see Sirius every once in a while.

Let's see, other families I know mother has investigated. Well, there's the Crabbes—but Mother so dislikes Bryony Crabbe. Father talked her into at least lunching with the Goyles, but everybody knows he hates Cadmus Goyle—besides, the entire family is dumber than rocks. I know she had lunch with the Parkinsons last week, but I do believe that Tisiphone Parkinson has her heart set on Adrian marrying that pug, Aimie Ganley. It's a shame, because any children they have will rather resemble Mother's pet pug. After it had been dead for two years.

I must return to packing for my journey to Hogwarts (for the last time!). It is hard to believe that six years have already gone by since that night I first stepped onto the Hogwarts Express with you, dear sister. Soon, though, it will be seven years gone by, and I will be considered a responsible adult. Which, I suppose, means marrying the husband Mother picks out for me and bearing a passel of beautiful, brilliant children who will be sacrificed to this infernal battle.

Please write; this year will be unendurable if I must weather it with only Mother's marriage proposals to keep me from scandalizing the family worse than you have, and snogging someone truly unacceptable (a la Severus Snape, or, worse, Lily Evans!) in the hallways between classes.

Your loving (lonely, half-mad-with-boredom) sister,  
Narcissa Black

----

18 July 1976

Narcissa;

It was a shock to receive your letter yesterday morning! (Literally; it arrived as we were eating breakfast, and I do believe Ted is unused to owls landing in his oatmeal before eight in the morning!) It was a pleasant shock, though, once I saw who the letter was from. We haven't spoken in much too long, my dear sister, and we haven't written in almost as long.

Yes, I do know Lily and Alice. Or, rather, I know of them. James Potter hasn't shut up about the Evans girl all summer; it's quite amusing, really. Your engagement with James was doomed to fail anyway, Cissy, as he's quite taken with her, and Alvina and Fabian believe in marrying for love more than politic. And I do believe Fabian is in the habit of swearing a bluestreak whenever Father's name is mentioned.

Having read your list of possible marriage partners, I do have to wonder if Mother could not, perhaps, look outside of your year for marriages. The Diggorys, I believe, have a son on the market right now—Amos. And the eldest of the Weasley boys is still unmarried, as is the younger Prewitt. The Longbottoms have a son of marriageable age—and he's even in your year! And, of course, there is always Remus Lupin. He is a charming boy.

Still, if forced to choose from that list, choose the Malfoy boy. Cadfael may be a bigoted, misogynistic, blind, idiot prick, but his wife is quite the lovely woman. She can also teach you the little parlor-politics tricks Mother does not know, so it is a wise marriage, as well. Also, there is the fact that combining their family fortune with our own—particularly now that I'm not a part of it, what with being disowned and all—will make you the richest, most powerful witch in Britain, if not the world.

So consider it, love. I know it sounds—and feels—disgusting, like you are goods on the market, but you can learn to love your new husband. During the courting process, I even suggest learning to be his friend. After all, that's all you can really expect in an arranged marriage. I wish you the best of luck, my sister.

Has it really been six years since I helped you onto the Hogwarts Express that first time? How time has flown! I can remember when you were a tiny little thing, and you wanted me to read you stories out of the Blue Fairybook—and I made them all up, because I couldn't read yet, and we were too afraid to go ask Bella.

Speaking of Bella, I can only hope that my child takes after the 'light' side of the Black family. Much as I love Bella—and I must, I am her sister, after all—she is not an arresting beauty. I will consider myself truly lucky if my child looks like you, Cissy. Of course, there's always the risk that he or she will take after Ted's family. Ted's not bad on the eyes, no, but his sister, Ellen, was rather spotty in her youth.

Never fear, dear Cissy, I will write you this year. Prepare to weather rather a lot of complaints regarding pre-motherhood, though. I love you, sweetie, so try not to worry about Mother and Father and Bella. If anything goes pear-y, you can always come live with me and Ted.

With much love and hugs and kisses,  
Andromeda Tonks

----

21 July 1976

Andy;

When I read your letter, I couldn't help but laugh. Gideon Prewitt? Frank Longbottom? Amos Diggory? Frederick Weasley? Remus Lupin?

Oh, dear, how I love you. That list brought me a good amount of amusement. All of them perfectly good, perfectly marraigable men. All of them ones that would give Father a heart-attack. Mother, of course, is too dignified to have one, but she'd undoubtedly fall into fits within a matter of minutes when she thought no-one was looking.

Hmm. On second thought, perhaps I should take up with the Lupin boy. Or Severus. He's good Slytherin, though, and that might lessen the blow. I should just go for all out and ask Lily Evans if she's up for a dalliance. I know she's 'experimented' with girls outside her house before.

Next time you see the Potters' son, do tell him that his intended rather fancies the fairer sex, would you?

Hugs and Kisses of a most Un-Black Manner,  
Narcissa

----

24 July 1976

Oh, my dear Cissy;

Yes, indeed, I can see the look on Mother's face as she tries to withhold her horror. And then collapses in terror once you've left the room after declaring your undying love for Remus Lupin.

Mind you, she'd die straight out, company be damned, were gossip of you 'dallying' with Evans get back to her.

I say go for it.

Also, what classes are you taking this year, Cissy? I know some place you could find employment, should Mother and Father disown you, too. Your particular talents would be much appreciated here. Plus, we have Sirius.

(Yes, I did just use our cousin as a bargaining chip. Deal.)

Much love, from me and the man and the baby,  
Andromeda

----

1 September 1976

So sorry for not having written earlier. Life got hectic as I had to prepare for school. My classes for this year are as follows.

Defense Against the Dark Arts, NEWT Level 2  
Advanced Spell Development  
Advanced Transfiguration and Manipulation of Magical Properties  
Potions, NEWT Level 2  
Development of Potions  
Arithmancy, NEWT Level 2  
Herbology, NEWT Level 2

All in all, not very mentally taxing. Though it is certainly more than the delicate housewife is expected to know. Whatever might this 'job' be? (As if a proper lady of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black would ever do anything so plebian as work. Ha.)

Scoffing most lovingly,  
Narcissa

----

3 September 1976

My scoffing little sister;

Spying. And Auror-like work, minus the Ministry's disgusting influence. And a free excuse to ogle Remus Lupin in tight leather pants when he's spying. The boy cleans up well, my dear. You could do a lot worse than that little werewolf. Heck, you could probably even get some nice, kinky sex out of the deal.

As for that not mentally taxing...

You do know what most of the pureblood women take their seventh year, yes? Divination and Care of Magical Creatures. Ooh, fluffy and bullshit. What fun.

(Just so you know, I can summon more sarcasm if I need to.) I'm quite impressed, really, because your classes make me look like an idiot. And make me feel like one, too. Congratulations, m'dear, you've outsmarted me. By a good deal, at that.

Your most jealous sister,  
Andromeda (the baby and Ted say hi, by the way)

----

7 September 1976

Sorry to be writing you so late after your last letter. There was a dreadful storm, and the owls refused to leave. Not that I blame them. I didn't want to go to Herbology, for fear one of the boys would use the excuse of the dreadful wind to try and gust my skirt up.

Three permanent sticking charms later, I actually did dare venture out.

Have I mentioned how ruddy impossible removing permanent sticking charms is? I am quite surprised I'm not still in the skirt. Though my thighs are a very amusing—if painful—shade of red right now.

By the way, dear. What is the gender of your offspring? Do you know?

Simply dying to know,  
Narcissa

----

10 September 1976

Dearest Cissy;

There's a reason it's called a _permanent_ sticking charm, dear.

The baby is a girl. We're going to name her Nymphadora.

We seem to have received the storm Hogwarts was experiencing. It is awful; you're right. Simply dreadful. Though I am muchly amused by your engagement announcement in the Prophet. Laudable, my dear, landing Lucius Malfoy.

Yes, I am sniggering madly, but I still love you,  
Andromeda

----

Andy;

DROP DEAD.

Cissy

----

13 September 1976

Oh, dear, are we not so pleased with our engagement, then?

Andy

----

14 September 1976

No, Andy, we are not pleased with our engagement. In fact, we are downright PISSED TO ALL BUGGERED HELL.

Someone is going to pay for this.

Cissy

----

15 September 1976

Just lay back and think of England, dear. Or the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black. Or Lily Evans. Whatever tickles your fancy…among other parts…

Ask Severus for instructions on brewing Inheritance Potions. He should know them fairly well, really. Then take as many as you dare, and pray Lucius isn't one of those who only sires girls.

This should cheer you up. Dearest Auntie Medea is going to drop dead when she finds out her dearest disowned baby boy is currently taking it up the arse from that dirty, shameless werewolf.

Notes to consider: Sirius screams like a whore. And takes it like one. Oh, and it was oddly hot.

Wishing you tons of fun with that thought,  
Andy (and Nymphadora and Ted)

----

16 September 1976

Can I lay back and think of Sirius and Lupin? I promise you, that's much prettier a thought than England. Or the dirty old Manor. Which is a hell of a lot cleaner than Grimmauld Place.

Nymphadora is a beautiful name, dear, but a bit unwieldy. Give the poor child some reasonable middle name, okay?

Miss you,  
Cissy


End file.
